Winter wind swirled down Rose Street with the occasional stench of pot. Its sour chestnuts roasting on an open fire stench reeks from way over there, or there, or there. Go tell it to the cop, or judge, or your public defender, for frankly it was none of my business. Day and night, body and mind entrenched in food, if not in my mouth then in my belly. Either thought of food, hunted for it, or shook off a binge like a junkie.
Winter cold did little to shake my hide so I sat on the stoop wearing shorts. Mere tee-shirts and jerseys warmed me. Passerby ogled me most likely thinking, What the fuck. Inside the house I roasted.
However, today is a new day. It’s about four in the afternoon. For a couple hours I’m volunteering with my wife at her church. We’re selling pumpkins, and pumpkins, and pumpkins. Meet and help people, and people, and people. Over there carloads of people pass at a slowing pace. They ogle the pumpkins, not me. I love it.
Make sure the door is locked, shut the light, “Goodnight Sweetie,” prop the pillow, shut my eyes, see orange, and smile.
Winter cold did little to shake my hide so I sat on the stoop wearing shorts. Mere tee-shirts and jerseys warmed me. Passerby ogled me most likely thinking, What the fuck. Inside the house I roasted.
However, today is a new day. It’s about four in the afternoon. For a couple hours I’m volunteering with my wife at her church. We’re selling pumpkins, and pumpkins, and pumpkins. Meet and help people, and people, and people. Over there carloads of people pass at a slowing pace. They ogle the pumpkins, not me. I love it.
Make sure the door is locked, shut the light, “Goodnight Sweetie,” prop the pillow, shut my eyes, see orange, and smile.
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